Big Time Hold Up
by TotallyLosingIt
Summary: Kendall, Logan, James and Carlos walk into a bank. But when a robbery goes down with the boys trapped inside, who will come out on their own two feet, and who will be in body bags? Plenty of whumpage to go around!
1. Chapter 1

**Hey you guuuuuys! GUESS WHAT? It's my good friend Poppy Seed's (boomboomboommuffins on psychfic) birthday! She's older than me by five months. :P *pokes her* ANYWHO, she's a BTR fan! Therefore, BTR fic! YAY! Happy birthday Poppy Seed! Hope it's EPIC!**

**Disclaimer: Heh, if I owned Big Time Rush, there'd be a lot more blood. GOOD THING I DON'T, RIGHT?**

…

"Why are we here again?" Carlos complained loudly, shifting from one foot to the other.

Kendall glared at him. "Because _you're _the one who convinced us to ride skateboards onto the set of the music video. Now we can't even do _"Invisible" _until we pay for all of the instruments we wrecked." He gestured at the bank's lobby they were in. "And since we _all _destroyed the equipment, we _all _can help pay for the damage."

"Is that even legal?" Logan said, taking his nails away from his mouth long enough to direct the question at Kendall before biting them nervously again. "I mean, don't we need, like, identification or something?"

"No, because Gustavo transferred it to my mom's account," Kendall explained. "And them Mom transferred it to mine."

James stopped combing his hair and widened his eyes at Kendall. "Wait, we have Gustavo's money now?"

The three other boys stopped and stared at Kendall, and the blonde shook his head. _"Only _for the music video!"

"Aww," the boys chorused, pouting.

The line shifted slightly and the boys moved up. It was an early Sunday morning, LA sunshine streaming through the various windows of the bank they were currently in line in. Kendall had dragged the guys with him to withdraw the money to help placate their new music video director—who seemed altogether impossible to work with. The previous day he had worked them for eight hours straight with no breaks, and he never seemed satisfied with their performance. The guys were edgy and irritable since the moment they woke up, and Kendall couldn't blame them.

Kendall looked over his shoulder and found Carlos smiling and waving at a little girl in the line next to them. She clutched her mother's hand and pointed at him, beaming. "It's Big Time Rush!" she said excitedly.

The woman looked over and Carlos waved at her too. Seemingly unimpressed, she harrumphed and turned back forward.

Carlos didn't seem to mind. He gave the little girl a high five and a sideways hug, and she giggled happily as she hugged her teddy bear.

Kendall smiled. It was always amazing to run into fans and be recognized when they weren't trying to.

The line moved again, and finally it was Kendall's turn to talk to the cashier behind the counter. He gave her his best smile and tried not to look as young as he actually was as he opened his mouth to speak.

He never got the chance.

A loud _bang _interrupted whatever it was he about to say. The guys jumped a foot in the air, screaming girlishly along with the other customers in the bank, and turned towards the door. White smoke was drifting through the doorway, causing everyone to cough uncontrollably. Kendall's eyes watered and he fell to his knees, pounding on his chest to try to keep himself from coughing.

"Nobody move!" a voice yelled.

Kendall looked up to see five dark figures—or maybe just men dressed head to toe in black—burst into the bank. Popping noises reached his ears and Kendall ducked, immediately recognizing the gunshots. A quick glance told him that the shooter was firing up, not hitting anyone but clearly intending to scare the crap out of him.

"Adults on this side, kids on this side!" another one said. He said something else, but the rest of his words were drowned out as the people inside the bank started to scream, panic rising and causing everyone to make a mad dash towards the door.

This was apparently anticipated as one of the men stepped in front of the large glass doors and raised his gun, a pistol, in their direction. They froze, not daring to move.

Kendall looked around and saw that Carlos was cradling the little girl who'd recognized him from before, holding her protectively against his chest. Logan was holding onto James' arm, the taller boy glaring ferociously at the closest man-in-black like he wanted to pick a fight.

"What did I tell you?" the man said, talking to the customers frozen at the door. "Adults on _this _side. Kids on _this _side. Disobey and get a bullet through your brain, see if I care."

What in the world was happening? A hand latched onto Kendall's upper arm and jerked him over to the right side of the bank, past James and Logan and Carlos.

"Let him go!" James yelled, flying to his feet.

"James, don't!" Logan scrambled after him, trying to reach him before he could attack the man he was aiming at.

James, of course, didn't listen. He reached the man and hit him in a tackle that looked more like it belonged in football than in hockey. The man fell with James on top, the gun flying from his hand and skidding across the floor.

For a second, everyone froze, eyes on the gun. But before anyone could go for it, the man James had pinned rolled, slamming James into the tile floor and holding him there. Then another man—supposedly the leader, by the way he walked—ambled over to them and pointed the gun almost casually at James' head.

"You really wanna go there, kid?" he asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow.

"Leave him alone," Kendall spoke up, standing slowly. He didn't even realize he'd said anything until the man lazily looked over at him, blue eyes glittering from behind his black ski mask.

"You going to try anything?" The tone of his voice almost dared him to.

Kendall didn't do anything. He stood where he was and held the man's gaze. He walked over to stand in front of the teen, using his gun to tap him lightly on the cheek.

"I didn't think so," he said softly. Grabbing Kendall's arm he shoved him to where Carlos sat cradling the little girl against the wall, and as Kendall sat he felt Carlos clutch his arm so tight that he winced.

James was tugged to his feet and practically thrown next to them, and Logan followed on his own accord when the gun was turned to him.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the main gunman said pleasantly, "you may call me Rick. If you would all stay still for me and keep quiet, we'll be out of here before you even noticed we left. Yes, this is what you're thinking: we're robbing this bank, and you in it."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: WOW you guys! Your reviews were CRAZY awesome! I feel kind of bad, though, since most of this fic was already written and I'm scared you might not like how this chapter came out. :P**

**This chapter is dedicated to BigTimeRush-BTR, whose review made me laugh so hard I snorted milk out of my nose. Or I would've, if I were drinking milk at the time. xD**

**Enjoy!**

…

"You!" Rick pointed at the clerks behind the desk. "Out. Now. And don't even think about pushing the panic button."

The clerks raised their hands and moved around the counter. There were three of them in all, counting the ones in the back room that were forced out at gunpoint after two men went in there. Carlos watched as they were led to the "adult" side of the room. He scanned his eyes over the wall opposite of him, eyeing the people.

There were eight adults—six men and two women. Two of the men carried suitcases and looked like they belonged in a court room instead of a bank. One of the women was the mother of the little girl he was holding. The other woman and two of the men worked at the bank, and the last man was dressed normally, like he was just in for a Sunday deposit.

The kids, on the other hand, were all dressed the same. Counting himself, Kendall, Logan, and James, there was the little girl and two preteen twin boys. They all hugged close to the wall, eyeing the five men as they grouped in the center of the room, some even lounging on the couches set up for customer comfort.

It made Carlos' blood boil. He fingered the cell phone in his sweatshirt pocket, hoping he looked inconspicuous as he pressed the 9 key. Using the screen to steer him, he pressed the 1 key twice, and then hit send.

Just as he did, one of the men—whom Rick called Max—stalked up to the kids' wall and stopped at the twins, holding out his hand expectantly. "Cell phone."

They fumbled for a second but each pressed a cell phone into the man's hand. Giving a satisfied grunt, Max moved on to James.

Carlos slipped the phone into his left hand and looked at the little girl in his lap. "Can you hide this for me?" he whispered.

Her eyes were wide, glittering blue with terror. But she nodded jerkily and grabbed the phone. Carlos watched as she thought for a second, and the dropped it into her jacket's hood.

Carlos had to smile. Smart girl.

"Phone."

He looked up as the man held out his hand to Kendall. The blonde glared and didn't move. Max didn't seem amused.

"Give me your phone, kid."

"You can have it. And while you're at it, why don't you shove it up your—"

Without warning, the man leaned down and grabbed the front of Kendall's jacket, hoisting him to his feet. James was standing in the next instant, fists clenched.

"I wouldn't," Max advised, lifting his gun until it nudged Kendall's temple. James glared so hard at him that Max might've been incinerated if James were Superman. But he slowly sat back down.

"What's up?" Rick called and Max tugged Kendall over to him.

"Kid's mouthy," was Max's explanation.

Rick sighed. "I can see you're going to be a handful."

Kendall didn't say anything, but crossed his arms over his chest when Max let go and came back to the kid's side, standing expectantly in front of Carlos. "Phone."

Carlos ripped his gaze from his friend for a second to look at Max. The man towered over him, dressed head to toe in black. In front of him, Carlos felt the little girl shrinking further into his chest. As she did, Carlos heard the operator's tinny voice asking questions he couldn't make out from the tiny speakers.

"Why are you robbing the bank?" he demanded—louder than necessary, but that's because he wanted the operator on the phone to hear him.

Even though he wore a ski mask, Carlos could see Max's face darkening. "None of your business," he snapped. "Cell. Phone. Now."

Carlos matched his glare. "I don't have one."

"Really." Max reached over and grabbed the hood of Carlos' sweatshirt, but Carlos was ready for it and rose by himself. It still chafed his neck, though, as the robber jerked him closer just to be intimidating.

"Don't lie to me, kid. I'm not in the mood."

"It's not a lie!" Carlos said defensively. "I broke it, like, a week ago."

Max didn't even seem to hear him. He raised his gun and brought it down hard on Carlos' head, sending the Latino boy crumpling to the ground. Pain exploded from behind his eyes and he twisted on the floor, clutching at his head as he whimpered quietly into the crook of his elbow.

"Stop it!" The cry came from Logan, surprisingly. But a well-placed glare kept him from protesting further.

Apparently that wasn't the case for Carlos' new friend. The little girl screamed and jumped to her feet, having been thrown from his lap as he was yanked up. Carlos twisted onto his stomach and reached out a hand to her.

"No," he gasped, knowing she was about to give up the phone in her hood.

She burst into tears as Max hauled Carlos up again, shoving him over to the wall and giving him a rigorous pat-down. Carlos stood as still as possible and tried not to shove him away as he rifled through his pockets.

Finally, Max gave a satisfied grunt and took a step back. "Yeah, okay." He motioned with his gun for Carlos to sit down and Carlos was all too happy to comply. He dashed to Logan's side and gathered the little girl in his arms again, shushing in her ear gently as she gripped his sweatshirt and cried.

"Carlos," she hiccupped. "Please don't do that again."

"It's okay," he soothed. "I'm fine, okay? Hey, what's your name?"

"Rebecca," she sniffled. "But you can call me Becky."

"Becky," Carlos nodded. "Cool name."

Kendall was led back over to him and the blonde sat down, crossing his arms angrily.

"You okay?" Carlos asked him, worried.

"Fine," Kendall said sarcastically. "But he made a show of smashing my phone to pieces with his boot."

Max had moved on after gathering Logan's phone, dumping them all on the ground outside of the bank. Rick then had the female bank manager lock the front doors and back doors.

"What are they doing?" Logan whispered to Kendall. "They said they were robbing the bank."

"They are robbing the bank," James hissed.

"Then why are they locking the doors?"

Carlos' eyes widened. If they were locking the doors, how were they supposed to escape? Wasn't that counterproductive?

The other customers shifted anxiously, obviously noticing the same thing. "I thought you were leaving?" one of the men with the suitcases called.

Rick looked over at him and raised the gun threateningly. The man didn't say anything again.

"Now," Rick said, turning in a circle to survey the customers. "Here's how this is going to go. You're going to come up here, one at a time, and give me your wallets and anything valuable you might have in your pockets." He pointed at the woman who'd just locked the doors. "You first."

She looked trapped and terrified. Carlos watched as she warily took a step towards Rick, who redirected her to "his good friend David," one of the other robbers. This went on with three of the other adults, leaving two of the robbers to keep an eye on the rest of them.

Carlos took his opening and grabbed the phone hidden in Becky's hood. The operator wasn't talking anymore, but the call was still running.

"You there?" he whispered, trying to look inconspicuous.

"_Hello?" _the operator demanded. _"Where are you? Tell me what is going on."_

"The Bank of America is being robbed," Carlos said quietly. "I think."

Kendall looked over at him curiously, eyes widening when he spotted the glint of the cell phone hidden in Carlos' hands. He caught the Latino boy's gaze, and then quickly looked away.

A sudden grin lit Carlos' face at the trust Kendall was placing in him.

"What's so funny?" Max asked, taking a threatening step closer to him.

Carlos' grin dropped and he ducked his head, resting his chin on Becky's dark-haired head. "Nothing," he mumbled.

"That's what I thought."

When Carlos was sure Max wasn't paying attention to him again, he uncovered the speaker and told the operator, "Can't you, like, trace the call or something?"

"_We can, and we have." _

Carlos let out a sigh of relief. "Kay, good. Well, there's five bad guys. They're wearing masks, but the leader is Rick. Or something like that."

"_How many hostages?"_

Carlos had to look up to count. "Fifteen."

"_And what's your name, sweetie?"_

"Carlos Garcia."

"_Alright, Carlos, I need you to stay on the line—"_

That was all she got out when the phone was ripped from Carlos' hands and thrown across the room. Carlos looked up, startled, and yelped as Rick snatched his arm. Fingers dug painfully into his skin as he was yanked to his feet.

Rick didn't even look angry. He looked strangely pleased. But his gun came up to rest against Carlos' forehead, and Carlos froze as he stared into the robber's cool blue eyes, hardly daring to breathe.

"Got ourselves a hero, do we?" Rick said, sounding amused. The room had gone dead quiet, robbers and hostages alike fixed on the scene in front of them. "Not gonna lie—I expected the men to do that. You're just a puny little thirteen-year-old kid."

"I'm sixteen," Carlos said hotly, without thinking.

"My apologies," Rick said sarcastically. "You're just a puny _sixteen-year-old_ kid."

"Put him down," said one of the men—the one dressed in the bank's custom uniform. He stood but eyed Rick warily, not wanting to piss him off. "He's just a kid… Rick."

"Right, right," Rick said, nodding. He released Carlos and shoved him back down before pointing the gun at him.

"No!" Kendall, Logan, and James shouted.

Rick paused, seeing their determination to protect their friend. "See, here's my problem, boys," he said. "You all seem determined to make me mad, and when I get mad then someone's gotta be punished. But you all seem to think that it shouldn't be yourselves. So who gets the bullet, huh?"

They said nothing, stares alternating between his masked face and the gun he held.

"Alright then." Rick swiveled the gun to point at someone and pulled the trigger.


	3. Chapter 3

**I APOLOGIZE. This would've been up DAYS ago, but then I lost my flashdrive. BUT I FOUND IT! \o/ Anyways, I kind of laughed when someone (an anonymous someone) mentioned that I should shoot someone the boys didn't know. I was already going to do that. xP GOOD PSYCHIC SKILLS ON YOU, MATE!**

**Enjoy!**

**...**

"Dad!" the twins shouted in unison.

The man dressed in regular clothes fell over from his kneeling position and stared, seemingly shocked, at the ever-growing spot of red on his sweatshirt.

Logan leapt to his feet at the same time both twins darted past Rick to kneel at their father's side. Rick raised an eyebrow, completely calm about the shooting.

"I can help him," Logan managed to stammer out. "I'm a doctor. Sort of."

Rick's lips twisted into a wicked smile. "Well, if you think you can save his life, _doc,_ be my guest."

Logan flinched. He sounded too patronizing, like he knew Logan would crack under pressure. And Logan probably would, too. He'd never even looked at a gunshot wound, let alone tried to treat one. What if he messed up? What if he made it worse?

Rick chuckled. "If you can't do it, doc, don't try."

"Logan," Kendall called as Logan stared at the robber. Logan looked over his shoulder, catching Kendall's serious green eyes. "You can do this."

He felt a rush of gratitude. Kendall seemed to know exactly what to say when Logan needed the encouragement.

Logan approached the man and gently nudged the younger boys out of the way. "What's his name?"

"Anthony," one of the boys said. His voice was tight, and he kept shooting furious glances at Rick's back as he made his way to his group of robbers.

"I'm Brian," the other twin said, looking calmer but still tense. "This is my brother, Jack."

"Hi, guys," Logan said. "I'm Logan. I have first aid training, and I think I can help your dad." He had the boys help him take off Anthony's sweatshirt.

"Anthony?" he called as once the sweatshirt was off. "Can you hear me?"

The man's lips moved, and Logan had to lean over to hear what he said. "Call me Tony," he whispered.

"Tony," Logan said, smiling shakily. "Nice to meet you. I'm Logan."

"I heard."

"Right." Man, he wasn't doing a very good job of this. "Tony, can you sit up?"

Tony's eyes opened and he blinked up at Logan. He looked like he was going to respond, but he frowned at him, gaze raking over Logan's young face. "Jus' a kid," he slurred blearily.

Logan nodded. "Hopefully, a smart kid." He winced slightly as the blood poured over his fingers as he tried to clamp down on the wound.

Tony struggled to prop himself up on his elbows, and Logan helped with one hand on his back and the other pressing hard onto the gunshot wound, sliding him to a sitting position. He tried to ignore the pained gasps Tony let out and focus on lifting up his undershirt.

"It went straight through," Logan said with a sigh of relief.

"Is that good?" Brian—or maybe Jack, Logan had lost track of which was which—asked him anxiously.

Logan hesitated. "All things considered, yes. It could've been worse. If the bullet was still in him, we would've had to dig it out or the wound would become infected." He didn't tell them that the hole could still become infected even with the bullet removed. "Anyways, he still needs a hospital, but we can help it out right now by putting pressure on both sides."

He demonstrated by balling up Tony's sweatshirt and helping him lie back down on the padded material. Then he took off his own sweatshirt and had Brian—or Jack, whoever—press it on the entry wound on Tony's chest.

As soon as the twin's hand came into contact with the entry hole, Tony tensed up in pain and let out a grunted swear word. The boy immediately released the pressure and looked at Logan, a terrified, trapped look on his face.

"It's going to hurt," Logan said, to both Tony and his sons. "But that's a good thing. You need it to hurt, because that's going to stop the blood flow and keep him from going into shock."

"I don't want to hurt him, Brian," Jack said, looking at his brother.

"We have to," Brian said, biting his lip. "Logan said so. It'll help, I promise. Do you want me to do it?"

"No," Jack said after a second.

"You got this, Jack," Tony whispered, raising a hand to clasp it in his son's.

Logan felt awkward sitting there, and was about to get up when Tony fixed his gaze on him. "You did good, kid," he rasped, nodding once in Logan's direction. "Go on back to your friends. I'll be okay."

Hesitating, Logan asked, "Are you sure?"

"I'll call you when I need you," Tony said, trying for humor.

Logan cracked a smile and nodded. He got to his feet and started to cross the room again, inching around Rick—who, no doubt, had been watching with that wickedly amused gleam in his eye—and back to the left of Carlos.

"He needs a hospital," Logan murmured to no one.

Carlos looked over and gave him a smile. "You're the next best thing," he said simply.

The little girl in his lap nodded seriously. "You're gonna save him," she said. "Don't worry, Logie."

"Logie?"

Carlos blushed. "I may have called you that when I was telling her what you were doing."

"Is that not okay?" she asked, looking worried.

"No, it's fine," Logan assured her, smiling a little. "It's nice coming from cute little girls."

She beamed. "I'm Becky."

"Nice to meet you, Becky," Logan said, putting on a charming accent for her. She giggled, and Logan felt his spirits lift a little. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Rick."

The lead robber turned to see one of the others—Logan thought he heard Rick call him "George"—wave at him.

"Don't go anywhere," Rick warned the captives, before turning and jogging to him.

Kendall scoffed from the other side of Carlos. "As if we could if we wanted to."

"What do you think they're doing?" James wondered as he sat on his hands. "They swept the grown-ups from their money and didn't even bother coming over here. They haven't even demanded for the manager to open the safe."

"That's because they know it's on a timer and can only be open at a certain time of day," Logan said, arching an eyebrow.

"It's creepy how you know that, dude," James said.

Logan shrugged. "It's protocol. But besides that, haven't you noticed that five of them came in here and there's only four we can see?"

He saw them look up and take count. There were two at the front doors, one in the middle of the room, Rick, and the guy who called Rick. The other one had gone straight to the backroom and they hadn't seen him since.

Kendall opened his mouth to say something, but a noise made him freeze. His eyes widened and he tilted his head. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" But then Logan could make out the quiet wail of a siren, getting louder and louder. And not just one siren, either. There had to be at least three of them. "Cops."

The two men at the door heard it, too. "Rick!" one of them shouted.

Rick appeared in an instant, charm and amusement evaporated. "Come on, people, just like we practiced."

_What?_

Logan didn't have time to think about what _that _meant. Max—the one standing in the center of the room—walked to the kids' side of the room and told everyone to stand. Logan got to his feet, eyes drawn to Anthony as one of the men tried in vain to move him.

Brian and Jack stood defensively in front of their father, refusing to move.

"You can't move him," Jack—Logan learned that he was the one with the blue baseball cap on—said firmly.

"It'll make his injury worse," Brian agreed.

Logan watched as the man grew impatient with them, and lifted his gun to strike them across the face. Without even thinking about it he was moving to place himself between them.

"If you want to make it out of here alive you need to let this man live," Logan said, standing his ground.

The man glared at him.

Logan licked his dry lips nervously, suddenly realizing how stupid of an idea this was. "Statistically, all bank robberies in which a civilian is shot and killed end with the shooter and the accomplices with a bullet in their head." He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "It's your choice."

"Leave him," Rick snapped, coming over and grabbing Logan's arm. "Kid, you're really pushing your luck." He shoved him over to where a line was forming: adult, kid, adult, kid. Logan was placed between a woman who worked at the bank and a businessman, facing away from the windows. The line cut right through the center of the bank between the front doors and the counters, and they were forced to stand.

It was like a barricade, Logan realized as the robbers placed themselves between the line and the counter.

As soon as the thought popped into his head the patrol cars pulled up to the bank. Logan peeked over his shoulder out of the window and saw how police officers immediately ushered the onlookers behind a yellow makeshift fence, guns drawn and pointed at the bank. As he turned back around he caught Carlos' relieved look directed at him. The police had come, alright. But Logan was starting to suspect that that was exactly what Rick wanted.

"I'm gonna make this easy for you and not throw in any big words to confuse those of you who can't comprehend them," Rick said, pacing in front of the line and waving his gun around for emphasis. "If you sit down, we shoot you. Sound simple enough?"

A cacophony of protests rose to answer him.

"That's not fair!"

"How long are we going to stand here?"

"My legs will get tired!"

"Tough," Rick said, glaring at them. "Think of it this way: at least now you're all developing a spine. Now, sit down and die. As you can see with poor Soccer Dad there, I'm not afraid to shoot people." He gave them all warning looks and left them with Max and another man that Logan didn't know to guard them.

"They're looking for something," Logan muttered under his breath, watching as Rick and two others disappeared into the backrooms.

The business man stirred next to him. "You're right, son," he said, low, rumbling voice complementing his dark chocolate skin. "They're definitely stalling. By the way, that was some good things you did to that man."

Logan looked up at him and gave him a faint smile. "Good practice," he said. The joke fell flat when he realized that it wasn't something to joke about.

The man put a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about it," he said warmly. "Everything is going to be okay."

Logan nodded. But even as he did, he couldn't help but doubt that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Heeey all! Sorry it took so long! I could give you a list of excuses, but I doubt you'd want to hear any of them. :P **

**I'd also like to thank ****mazeygrace18****, who pointed out that this fic has parallels to the Psych episode "Gus Walks Into a Bank"—which I totally didn't mean to do but might've done subliminally, since I love that episode. xD**

**Enjoy!**

…

James knew a lot about standing. He had been practicing his model pose since he was eight—he could hold it for forty-five minutes if he had to. But this was a little ridiculous.

He'd been placed at the end, with the woman who worked at the bank on his right. James longed to sit down and give his legs a rest, but he didn't dare to. He also couldn't move his head to see how the others were faring. The last time he tried it, Max had given him a rap on the head hard enough to make him see stars, but not hard enough to let him sit down. Life just sucked sometimes. His feet hurt, his legs were numb, and he was bored out of his mind—not to mention he was stuck right under the air vent, and it was all he could do to keep from bringing his hands up to rub at his arms to try to erase the goose bumps that came with the cold.

There was another problem, too. He _really _had to go to the bathroom.

James estimated that they had been standing there for a good fifteen minutes—although it felt more like an hour—when the phone started to ring. He nearly jumped out of his skin, attention riveted to the sleek black telephone on the counter in front of him.

"Rick," Max called lazily.

Rick was back in an instant, obviously hearing the ringing from the back room. He started to reach for it, before looking up at James.

"Kid," he called, jerking his head in a gesture for James to come over. "C'mere."

James really didn't want to go anywhere near Rick. But Max prodded his shoulder with the gun, and he realized he didn't have much of a choice. He walked until he was a couple of steps from Rick, standing stiffly.

Rick grabbed his forearm hard and pulled him closer. "Say one word and the little girl dies first."

James jerked back at the threat, disbelief that he would go so far as to shoot an eight-year-old girl just if James decided to speak up shooting through him like an arrow. He looked over his shoulder at her—she and Carlos were allowed to stick together, since Carlos had glared so ferociously at the man who'd tried to split them up that Rick told him to let them be. She had her wide blue eyes fixed on him, as did Carlos. James couldn't risk finding out if Rick was lying or not.

He turned back to Rick and nodded slowly.

Apparently satisfied, Rick picked up the phone and said, "Yo."

He leaned against the counter, looking unconcerned as he listened to the person on the other line. "Nice to meet you, Henry O'Connell," he said out loud. "I'm afraid I can't tell you my real name, but you can call me Rick."

James frowned. He shouldn't have expected the names they had given to be real, but he felt a little betrayed knowing that Rick's real name wasn't known to him. And who was Henry O'Connell? Was he a cop?

Rick cast his gaze over at the line. "Carlos Garcia?" he called.

Carlos' head shot up, a terrified expression coming onto his face.

Rick laughed. "Oh, yeah. The Mexican kid who looks like he's twelve."

James felt a surge of anger at the man's words. Carlos was _Latino, _not Mexican. He opened his mouth to say so, but then remembered the threat on Becky's life. He swallowed the words and felt physically ill, hating how he had to let his friend take that. Looking over his shoulder he saw Carlos squeezing Becky's shoulders reassuringly, not even looking bothered at Rick's insult.

"My demands," Rick drawled, drawing James' attention back to him. He looked up at the ceiling as if he had to think about it. "Well, I'll let you know when I think of them." He started to hang up when something Henry O'Connell said made him pause and look over at James.

"Fine," he said, raising an eyebrow. "One minute."

He motioned James to step closer and he did, accepting the phone that was thrust into his hand. Licking his suddenly dry lips, he whispered, "Hello?" like he was afraid if he spoke any louder, Rick would take it from him.

"_Hello?" _the man on the other line said. _"Hello, son, my name is Henry O'Connell with the LAPD. What's your name, son?"_

"James." It came out quieter than he wanted it to. He raised his voice. "James Diamond."

"_James _Diamond?" Henry sounded surprised. _"You mean—"_

"Yeah," James said quickly, not wanting Rick to overhear what the man was confirming—that he was a member of Big Time Rush. If there was ever a moment he wished that their band wasn't as popular as it is now…

Henry sighed heavily into the phone. _"Are you all okay? Anyone injured?"_

"Rick shot a man," James said, but then the phone was yanked from his grasp. He looked up into Rick's face.

The gunman's expression was murderous even though James could only see his chilling blue eyes. His grip on James' wrist tightened and it hurt, but James didn't say anything, frozen in terror that he'd said something wrong. He wracked his brain for his mistake, replaying the conversation in his head. Was it the last line? Probably.

Rick didn't tear his glare away from James, but he lifted the phone to his ear and said calmly, "Time's up." He replaced the phone back in its cradle and never took his eyes off of James. The boy shifted uncomfortably, not sure what to do.

"I have to go to the bathroom," he blurted.

Instead of laughing and mocking him, like he expected him to do, Rick tugged on his arm and half threw him across the room at one of the men.

"Take the kid to the can, David," he growled, sounding disgusted.

David helped James up and led him to the back rooms, past the counters and through the office-like workspaces. He stopped him at the men's bathroom and waited expectantly.

James hesitated. "You're not coming in?"

"Do you want me to?"

The boy flushed. "Um, no."

David nodded, and through his mask his eyes glittered with amusement. It wasn't the cruel kind that Rick always seemed filled with, but more understanding, which made James feel a little better.

He was out within a minute, feeling a little better. David tilted his head, acknowledging that he was finished, and led him back to the others. As they walked James turned his head and saw the other man—the one they barely saw when he first came in—sifting through a pile of boxes in a giant room full of other boxes. He frowned, trying to remember the name of them. Safe Deposit Boxes—right? He made a mental note to ask Kendall or Logan as soon as he got back.

Rick looked up impatiently. "Get back in line," he grumbled, obviously done with him.

James gratefully skirted back to the end of the line, and as he turned to face the robbers again he caught a glimpse of the cops outside. They were lined up behind yellow fences, either pointing a gun at the building of keeping the gathering crowd at the perimeter around them. James caught the gaze of one of them: A man who was freakishly tall and looked like he was built more like a football player than a cop, with a smooth, shaved head and broad shoulders. He had a phone gripped in his hand, and as he and James exchanged glances he nodded grimly.

Henry O'Connell. James was sure of it. He nodded back before turning around slowly, heart pounding loudly.

Rick stood and stretched casually before coming around to stand in front of the line of people. "I thank you for your patience, ladies and gentlemen," he started off. "Sorry it's taking so long. But don't worry, we'll be out of here as soon as we can."

"What are you looking for?" James wanted to know. The words just slipped out—he didn't even realize he'd said anything until Rick's head snapped to him, eyes flashing angrily.

"None of your business," he snarled.

But James' question merely released the gate.

"Why did you lock the doors?" the woman next to him demanded.

"You're stalling," Kendall accused him.

Other voices rose and blended into noise, leaving James frozen and scared that he'd started something that would push Rick so far he would shoot somebody. He watched as the man calmly surveyed the people rising up against him, unconcerned. Rick lifted the hand with the gun and shot straight up into the air, three shots that shuddered the ceiling and silenced the crowd so quickly that James had time to hear the gunshots echo into the air.

"We can do this the easy way," Rick stated, "or the hard way. I'm up for either option, guys. The question is: are you all ready to die?"

"You won't kill us," Kendall said confidently.

"No, Kendall," James breathed under his breath.

Rick swiveled, striding up to Kendall and looking him up and down. "Really?" he sneered. "And why's that?"

Kendall didn't even flinch, staring Rick down. "Because," he said slowly. "The moment you kill one of us, it's over. You already made your first mistake, flying off the handle and shooting that man." He gestured to the twins' father, still lying on the floor in front of them, limp and unconscious. "And if he dies, you'll never get out of here alive. You can't risk shooting anyone else."

Rick didn't move. His voice was so low James had to strain to hear it. "How do you know I'm not planning on surviving this in the first place?" he said softly.

Kendall's eyes widened. Carlos flinched violently and held Becky tighter. Logan paled even more than he already was, and James felt his heart skip a beat. A low murmur of unease rippled through the line at Rick's words, staring at the crazy man holding them hostage.

"Hey, Rick," Max said, popping his head through the door and breaking the tension. His voice sounded on edge, and when James looked at him as Rick jogged towards him, he noticed a remote clutched in his hand. "You're gonna wanna see this," he said grimly.

He turned and pointed the remote at the TV, and as he flipped the channel to the local news, James already knew what they were going to see.

The reporter was standing outside of the bank they were in, face set solemnly. _"We go live now to the scene of the robbery, where police are engrossed in a tense stand-off with the hostage-taking robbers. This just confirmed: among the hostages are the four boys that make up the teenage boy band Big Time Rush: Kendall Knight, Logan Mitchell, James Diamond, and Carlos Garcia."_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I hope this makes you whump fans happy. :P **

Kendall's first thought when he heard his name was that they were completely, totally, royally screwed. As soon as their pictures flashed up on the screen, Rick's head snapped back to him, then to James, and then Carlos and Logan. Logan dropped his face into his hands as if that would keep Rick from comparing the two faces.

"Oh, no," Carlos muttered under his breath.

Rick crossed to Kendall. The reporter's voice was still talking in the background as he came to stand in front of the boy, blue eyes glittering.

"_Big Time Rush is an up-and-coming pop/dance group with thousands of fans worldwide. It is unclear what the boys—all age sixteen—are doing in the bank or whether the robbers know of their identity—"_

"We know now," Rick said softly, straight to Kendall.

Kendall didn't say anything, but he was sure his heart was pounding loud enough for Rick to hear and laugh at him. But Rick merely stared at him.

"George," he called over his shoulders, "you got those ties?"

The man to the right of Kendall hefted his bag and took out a handful of white plastic zip-ties. "Never leave home without 'em."

Kendall suddenly felt ill. He took a step back, but Rick caught his arm, fingers tightening and engraving their mark into his skin. With a shocked gasp of pain, Kendall was jerked from the line and thrown to the floor.

"Stay in line!" Rick ordered when Carlos, James, and Logan started to come forward. He pointed at Kendall. "And you—stay _down." _

Yeah, right. Kendall stumbled to his feet and ran at Rick, ramming his shoulder into the robber's midsection. They both went crashing to the ground, Kendall on top.

Shouts from the others were blocked out as Kendall struggled with Rick, swinging his fists, rolling over and over, slamming into things and scrabbling to get the upper hand. The heel of Rick's palm slammed into Kendall's jaw, stunning him for a second as bright lights flashed in front of his eyes in negative colors. Kendall stumbled backwards onto his rear end, shaking his head to gain focus again. When his vision cleared, Rick was on his feet, reaching for the gun and aiming it at Kendall's face.

"Stay down!" he roared. Kendall realized with shock that sometime during the fight he'd ripped off Rick's mask. The man had curly red hair cut short, freckles, and icy blue eyes that seemed even colder now that they weren't obscured by the mask.

Kendall froze on the ground, watching with horror as Rick raised his gun at someone behind him, eyes wild, furious, out of control. His finger pulled the trigger, and Kendall had just enough time to hear Logan and Carlos yell, _"James!" _before Rick stepped forward and slammed his boot into Kendall's ribs.

Fire exploded from his midsection, the breath rushing out of him as the pain flared. Kendall gasped sharply and tried to curl in on himself—anything to relieve the pain—but Rick raised his boot and stomped on him again. And then _again—_the third time, Kendall could feel something snap, the crack echoing in his ears as if there was no one else yelling, the phone wasn't ringing, Carlos wasn't shushing Becky shakily in her ear, James wasn't groaning in pain, Logan wasn't begging Rick to stop, Rick wasn't shouting obscenities at Kendall's face—no other noise surrounded him. As if he were the only one in the empty, silent bank.

Kendall screamed. He couldn't help it—his thought process went completely blank and the instinct to let someone _know _that whatever they were doing _hurt _took over. He barely even recognized his own voice. It was guttural and rough and broke about half-way through. He squeezed his eyes shut, not even noticing the edges of his vision fading fast.

He was numb for a second, feeling the giant area of hurt expanding from his ribs and hating it. Kendall couldn't even think, could barely register when Rick flipped him on his stomach and yanked his arms behind his back, except when his shoulder was pulled back so far it tugged on his ribs and made him scream again.

Kendall was vaguely aware of Logan's voice drifting in and out of his ears. It suddenly occurred to him that his friend must've been a whole lot closer to him than he was. He opened his eyes tiredly, wanting to know why that was. Wasn't he back in the line?

Logan's face swam in front of him and Kendall had to blink a few times for it to focus. Logan's eyebrows pushed together and he looked like he wanted to burst into tears—that or scream in terror.

"You're going to be okay," Logan mouthed—or maybe he said it out loud but Kendall still couldn't hear anything save for snippets of conversation.

Kendall frowned as he took in Logan's state. The brunette's face was white as a sheet and he had blood dripping from his temple on down.

"What happened?" he slurred, trying to touch the wound but jerking in surprise as he noticed that his hands wouldn't move. Something dug into his wrists, binding him together. Zip-ties.

Everything snapped back to crystal clear clarity. He lifted his head and saw that he and Logan had been yanked from the line and thrown on the floor. Logan had his hands bound behind his back like him, but he was propped up on his elbow leaning over Kendall and keeping his gaze fixed on Kendall's chest. James was writhing on the ground a couple feet behind him as Rick yanked his hands behind his back as well. Blood poured from somewhere on his arm, staining his blue t-shirt.

When he turned, he could see Carlos shoving Becky behind him as one of the other men came up to him and dragged him by the arm over to where Kendall and Logan lay. He had both a furious look on his face and tears shining his eyes as his attention alternated between James and Kendall.

"Are they okay?" he demanded as the man fastened the tie around his wrists.

Logan shook his head. "I think Kendall has some broken ribs."

Oh. That would explain the snap. Stupid—Kendall had broken ribs before. He should've remembered how that felt.

James was shoved down next to them, fixing his worried, pained eyes towards Kendall. "Is he…?" he tried to say through gritted teeth.

"Fine," Kendall coughed, struggling to sit up. Pain exploded from his ribs and he thumped back again. "Sort of. You?"

"It's a graze," James grunted.

Logan leaned towards him, obviously wanting confirmation that James wasn't lying, but Rick stomped over to them and grabbed Carlos.

"C'mon, shortie," he sneered, using one hand to grab Carlos' short hair and steer him towards the large windows and the other hand to clasp the phone in his hand as he quickly hit the redial button.

"Leave him alone!" Kendall and James yelled.

Rick ignored them, shoving the struggling Carlos through the line—Kendall couldn't believe no one had stepped forward to help them, even under the threat of guns—and up to the window. He put the phone on speaker so everyone could hear it, and behind the glass Kendall could see the cops scrambling to point their guns at Rick.

"_What happened?" _the man on the other line demanded. _"We heard gunshots, screaming… is that Carlos Garcia?"_

"Tell them," Rick mocked in Carlos' ear. "Tell them if it's you, _Carlos Garcia."_

Kendall's rage boiled to a breaking point when he heard Carlos' shaky voice. "It's me," he said, barely over a whisper, barely loud enough for Kendall to hear.

"Leave him _alone!" _

"Shut up!" Rick shouted harshly over his shoulder. He turned back to the phone and growled, "By the way, you can thank the reporters for alerting us to the fact that we had celebrities in our midst. Now if you want these stupid teenagers to live, I'd hurry up with getting us fifty-thousand dollars in _cash, _unmarked, and a bus out of here."

"_If we give you something, you have to give us something back," _the cop warned.

Rick sneered. "Now, what kind of bank robber would I be if I did that?"

"He shot two people," Carlos blurted.

Kendall closed his eyes so he didn't have to see Rick smashing Carlos' forehead into the glass.

"_Rick, violence isn't the answer."_

"Seems to work for a lot of people here, Henry," Rick said pleasantly.

Henry sighed. _"Listen. We scratch your back, you scratch ours. We can't do anything for you until you do something for us."_

Rick let go of Carlos long enough to scratch the red stubble on his chin. "I suppose I could let the other hostages go," he mused. "And keep these four lovely boys. Maybe they can sing for me."

Kendall cringed at his laugh. He would rather go forever without singing than stay here with Rick.

"_What about the injured?" _Henry pressed. _"Who else is hurt?"_

"None of your business," Rick snapped. "Your precious hostages will be coming out shortly. I hope for these kids' sakes that you've gotten my money, or they will get more than a couple of broken ribs."

"_Wait, what—"_

Whatever Henry was about to say was cut off as Rick slid the phone closed and started to drag Carlos back. When they were clear of the line, Rick turned him around and shoved him towards the ground, and Carlos fell face-forward onto Logan's lap.

"Thanks," he muttered when Logan used his shoulder to help him sit up. "Did you hear that? They're letting the others go."

"That's great," Kendall said tiredly.

The Latino boy's faint smile faded. "Are you okay, Kendall?" he said in a small voice. "For real."

For real? Kendall shook his head. "I have no idea."

"He should be fine," Logan said quietly to Carlos. "As long as we get him medical attention. We don't know if the broken ribs punctured a lung." He looked Kendall over quickly, listening to his breathing. "I'd say not yet," he decided. "But if Rick keeps roughing him up…"

"I'm fine, guys," Kendall said, annoyed with the way they were talking about him like he wasn't there.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen," Rick said, standing between the line of hostages and the boys. "As I'm sure you're aware, you all get to go home. We appreciate your patience with us, and—"

"What about Big Time Rush?"

Kendall lifted his head to stare at Becky. The fearless young girl had her fists clenched, glaring straight up at Rick like she wanted nothing more than to kick him in the shins as hard as she could. "You can't keep them," she continued. "They're people too."

"Becky, no," Carlos said quietly, shaking his head.

"No, Carlos," Becky said sharply. "This man is mean and he should know it so he can fix it."

Rick walked over to her. Kendall already knew by the way his feet hit the floor that he was going to do something painful, something unforgiveable to her.

"_No!"_

Carlos' voice was powerful and demanding, not at all like the Latino. Rick turned around and glared at Carlos and he matched it with gritted teeth.

Kendall's heart swelled with pride at the look of determination on his face. That was Carlos—protecting even when it would get him in trouble.

"She's almost out of here," Carlos said in a low voice when Rick went to speak. "Just let her go."

Rick studied him.

Becky suddenly seemed to realize that talking back to Rick could get her hit, and she backed up a step, back into the line, ducking her head.

Rick nodded. "Alright, shortie," he said slowly. He turned and pointed his gun at Becky. "Listen, sweetie, if you open your mouth again I'll shoot your hero," he said sweetly.

Becky's face paled so fast her freckles stood out. She looked like she wanted to cry, but she caught Carlos' gaze, and then swept it to Kendall's. Kendall gave her a nod.

"You," Rick said, pointing at the woman who'd locked the doors before. "'Go unlock the doors. When I say _three, _I want all of you out of here. Got me?"

No one said anything, but it was obvious they understood. The woman unlocked the door and stumbled outside, crying. The others stayed behind for a second, watching Kendall, Logan, James, and Carlos.

"One," Rick said threateningly.

The first people rushed out of the door. Becky's mother grabbed her hand and tried to tug her outside with the rest of them, but her daughter resisted, throwing pained looks at Carlos.

"Two."

"Go," Carlos mouthed.

Becky's eyes shone with tears as she let her mother lead her outside.

"Three!" Rick said cheerfully. Two of his men grabbed the glass doors and shoved them closed. Rick turned around to face the boys, and they each glared up at him.

"So, boys." His voice was obnoxiously bright. "How about we have some fun?"

**A/N: PLEASE READ THIS: **

**So I'm sure you guys have heard about FootballandBTR being in the hospital with cancer. If you haven't, BigTimeRush-BTR has an idea: tomorrow we'll put up fics about cancer victims who survive to give him some support and show him we love him. Please do this! I'd love you forever! Thanks guys!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I understand if you hate this chapter. I hate this chapter. With a PASSION. It's got to be the most boring chapter I've ever written. Or something like that. So I apologize at the terrible boringness. :P**

**Enjoy!**

"Where are they?"

Henry O'Connell turned to see a slim brunette woman striding towards him, a preteen girl close on her heels. They slipped under the yellow tape that held the spectators back, ignoring the protests of Henry's teammates as they went.

Great. Just what he needed. Henry rubbed at his eyes with one hand, tired of all of the things going wrong. First the press screwed up and let the robbers inside the bank know that they had celebrities as their hostages. Then one of the ex-hostages that came out demanded to go back inside to help out the teenage boys still trapped in the bank—and she was only nine years old. And now this. Whatever this was.

"Ma'am," he said, coming up to the woman, "this is a restricted area. You really shouldn't—"

"I am the mother of Kendall Knight," she snapped. "I am the legal guardian of the three other boys in that bank. You tell me right now what you're doing to get them back or so help me, I am marching in there myself."

"You are not allowed back here," Henry said firmly.

"We're not taking no for an answer," the girl said, standing next to her mother. Simultaneously they crossed their arms stubbornly, glaring at him.

Henry didn't have the time to deal with this. "Martin," he called to his younger partner. Josh Martin hurried over with a curious look in the women's direction. "Take these young women to the van," Henry said. "Brief them on what's going on."

Martin obviously caught the pleading look in his eye, because he nodded and took the woman and her daughter without one smart aleck comment.

Henry gazed at the bank's windows. The sun reflected off of the glass, preventing them from seeing inside. But if what Rick had said was anything to go by, he realized that it might now be going so well in there.

…

"And they say smoking can kill you!" Rick laughed loudly in Logan's ear. He held him close to his chest with one hand clapped over his mouth, the other hand clutching a cigarette.

Carlos wanted nothing more than to rush over and beat the living daylights out of Rick. As it was he could only glare and try not to fall apart as Rick shoved the burning cigarette onto Logan's exposed arm. Logan whimpered and squirmed uselessly in Rick's grasp, making Rick laugh harder.

James was the only one still shouting at Rick to stop, but even his voice was growing hoarse. Carlos felt drained and frustrated knowing he couldn't protect his friends. Kendall had passed out a long time ago, being the first to learn Rick's definition of "fun" when the robber poked his broken ribs, burned him with his cigarette, and very casually leaned with his boot on Kendall's windpipe until the blonde lost consciousness. It was the scariest thing Carlos had ever seen, and he knew that Logan was about to receive the same treatment.

Sure enough, Rick grew bored with Logan's weak struggling and released him. Logan crashed to the floor and landed on his side, gasping lungfuls of air as if he'd never breathed before. Rick used his foot to nudge him onto his back and started to lift his boot into the air, when the phone's shrill ringing shattered the tense silence.

Annoyed at the interruption, Rick lifted his gun and said threateningly to Logan, "Don't move, Doc."

Logan didn't move. The boys watched at Rick strode to the counter and picked up the phone almost lazily. "Yo."

He listened for a second. "You got my money, but you don't have my escape plan." Sighing heavily, he made a hissing sound through his teeth. "I don't know how long these boys can hold out until one of them dies…"

Carlos ground his teeth together at the poorly veiled threat. He hated this—_hated _it. It wasn't just not moving. It was not being able to help Logan as he rubbed his burned arms on the cool tile floor, or preventing Kendall from passing out two feet in front of him. His friends were hurting and he was the only one still intact, and he hated it.

He watched as Rick's face turned red. "You listen here," he said tightly, "I am not letting you even lay your eyes on them until I get my money _and _my bus. Call me again, and I shoot the blonde."

Rick slammed the phone down on its cradle, making Carlos flinch. He looked over at the three who were still conscious, taking note of James' glare, Carlos' struggling to get free, Logan's hard time breathing. Shaking his head, he said, "What makes you boys so special, hm?"

"We're everything you're not," James said caustically.

"James," Logan breathed in warning.

Rick walked to James and knelt in front of him. James' jaw clenched as he held his gaze. Rick nodded, brought his hand up, and backhanded him across the face.

"James," Carlos started to say, but stopped as Rick turned to glare at him.

"Trust me, kid," he said to James as the brunette turned to face him again. "If I had duct tape on me, you wouldn't be talking. But I can always use your sock. So do us both a favor, and shut the hell up."

"Rick," David called.

Rick looked up expectantly, and David nodded. "We found it."

"Good." Rick straightened up slowly, nodding as a slow smile spread across his face. "Good."

They watched as he walked briskly to the back room, nearly running over David. The kinder robber turned to them and locked eyes with Max, the only other robber watching them.

"Rick might need help opening it," he mumbled.

Max didn't move for a second, studying David. "Fine," he said. "Watch them, though. And don't go mushy on us. If you mess this up…"

He let the threat hang in the air for a second before turning to follow Rick through the doorway. David waited another beat, and then hurried to them, surveying their injuries. His eyes fell on Carlos, the least damaged.

"Don't have a lot of time," he said quietly, kneeling by him. "And I can't help you. But here."

He reached around Carlos and slipped something into his hands. Carlos frowned as he held the cool metal, trying to figure out what it was. Logan helped him out by peering behind him.

"A pocket knife." Logan looked up at David. "Why are you helping us?"

"It was never supposed to go this far," David said, looking away. "Now that Rick knows who you are… he's not going to let you go."

James frowned. "Wait—you knew?"

Even though the man was masked, they could sense him smiling faintly. "I have two nieces who are big fans," he said.

Voice drifted back to them, and David stood abruptly. "I did what I could," he whispered. "The rest is up to you."

"Wait, David,"eHe Carlos said. David stopped and turned to look at him, and Carlos gave him a genuine smile. "Thank you."

David paused for a second. "Press the button on the side, but make sure it's pointed away from you," he said finally.

Carlos turned the knife over in his hands. He'd never used one of these before. What button was David talking about? Oh wait—Carlos felt his thumb slide over the risen metal button on the side of the pocket knife. He was about to depress the button when Rick stomped into the room, glaring at David.

"What the hell is this?" he seethed, holding up a box.

"Um, a safe deposit box?" David turned it into a question, sounding confused.

"No, moron," Rick snapped. _"This." _He pointed to the lock. A key seemed half-shoved into it, but it obviously didn't fit. "This isn't the right box."

David sighed. "Yes, it is."

_"No, _it _isn't." _Rick looked about ready to throw punches. "This is his key, David. Obviously, it isn't his _box."_

"You need the bank manager's key to open it," David explained. "It fits with the customer's key. You know, so nobody steals it."

His voice was slightly mocking, and Rick's fair skin turned red in anger. "And you didn't think to grab the bank manager's key when he was still in here?"

David pursed his lips and didn't answer.

"Idiot!" Rick grabbed a fistful of David's black sweatshirt and pushed him to the ground next to Logan. Logan flinched away as their eyes met.

David got to his feet and ducked his head. Rick sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. After a moment of thought, he walked back to the counter and picked up the phone, hitting the redial button.

David threw a look over his shoulder at Carlos, and the Latino boy nodded. He flipped the switch and had to gulp back a yelp as he felt the blade snap open, nearly nicking his skin. Carefully he slipped it between the thin plastic that bound his wrists together. It took a tug, but the zip tie released him.

Carlos' eyes widened. He looked at Logan and James, and saw that they were both staring at him and trying not to grin.

"Henry," Rick said conversationally into the phone. "I've got some good news for you. I want to trade. One of these brats for the bank manager." He paused, listening, and frowned. "What do you mean, he's gone? Where did he go? The hospital, huh. Well, I suggest you go hunt him down. This offer only stands for thirty minutes."

Carlos waited another beat, until he got the "all clear" nod from David, and turned to he could slip the knife into James' hands. James gave him a small grin.

"You heard me," Rick said coldly. "And you know, I don't even want the manager. I just want his keys. Understand? Keys for… hm, how about the blonde? He gets on my nerves."

"His name is Kendall," Carlos snapped, leaning slightly towards his unconscious friend.

Rick waved at him, like it didn't matter. "Fine, whatever. Just get me those keys. Or else." He didn't even try to make his voice sound threatening before he hung up.

He looked at Carlos, Logan, and James. "Well, boys," he said, arching an eyebrow, "you better hope I get those keys." He pointed at Logan and smiled tightly. "We have some unfinished business, doc."

Logan glared at him, and Rick laughed. "Ooh, have we grown a spine now? What are you going to do?"

The two held gazes for a second longer, until Logan averted his eyes. Rick nodded. "That's what I thought." He looked at David. "David, a word."

A pang of panic struck Carlos at the look on Rick's face. David was the only one who looked like he actually wanted to help them. If Rick suspected that he was helping them, he would kill him, no doubt about it.

David took a deep breath and nodded, following Rick to the back room. Max and—what was his name? George?—stayed on either side of the door way.

"What…"

Carlos whipped his head to where Kendall lay. His eyes were fluttering open as his head rolled to face Carlos.

"'Los," he mumbled. "What… what happened…?"

James was the one who answered. "We're almost out of this," he muttered so only they could hear.

Kendall opened his mouth, but yelling cut off whatever he was about to say. Carlos jumped slightly as a gunshot echoed through the bank. Kendall's eyebrows furrowed and he turned wide eyes to Carlos, the closest to him.

Carlos shook his head. He didn't even know what to say.


	7. Chapter 7

**I apologize for the wait. And the prank. ^_^ But hey- it's Spring Break! That means I get to write more! Yay! **

**Enjoy!**

"What are we going to do?" Katie whispered.

Jennifer looked down at her daughter and saw that she was staring at the bank. She sighed. Ever since she heard on the news that her boy—her _boys—_were trapped as hostages in the bank, millions of scenarios passed through her head. Were they hurt? Were they scared? Were they thinking of a way to get out of there, like they always did?

She really hoped they weren't doing anything stupid, something that might get them killed. But of course they would—that's what made them so _good._

"Mom."

Jennifer's attention was drawn to Katie, who redirected it with a nod. She looked and saw a woman and a young girl, glaring at each other and waving their hands furiously. They didn't speak. It took Jennifer a second to realize that they were signing in American Sign Language. The young girl looked increasingly upset, while the woman—whom Jennifer realized must be her mother—looked desperate and on the verge of tears.

"No!" the girl finally spat out, turning sharply on her heel and stomping blindly towards Katie and Jennifer. Halfway between she tripped on the curb and would've fallen flat on her face if Katie weren't already stepping forward to meet her.

"You okay?" Jennifer asked.

"Yeah." She shook her head and looked up, large blue eyes shimmering. "I just… I should go back to my mom."

"That you should," Jennifer agreed. "I'm sure whatever you think your mother did it couldn't have been as awful as it seems."

"It is when she just stepped back and left Big Time Rush behind," she muttered.

"You were in the bank?" Katie blurted.

"Katie," Jennifer frowned disapprovingly.

The girl shook her head. "It's okay. We were in the bank. Why, are you fans?"

Katie's lower lip trembled and she bit down on it hard. "Kendall Knight is my brother."

"I'm sorry," the girl said after a second. She seemed to know that any sputtering might make it worse. "My name's Becky. I'm nine, almost ten. You must be Katie, right?"

"Um, yeah." Katie frowned. "How did you…?"

Becky smiled. "I read the magazines, you know. And I guess, people tell me I'm smart for my age."

"I get that all the time."

"Why doesn't your mother come after you?" Jennifer cut in, eyeing Becky's mother. The woman stared at her passively, frowning, before catching her gaze and turning away.

"She never does," Becky said. "I'm… independent, I guess." Her voice was slightly bitter.

Jennifer had never heard such pain and frustration from someone so young. She looked at Katie, who looked back at her. Jennifer sighed.

"Well," she said, "how about you hang with us for a while? Your mother too, if she wants to come with."

"I don't—"

"Really," Jennifer insisted. "I don't want you out here alone anyways. You're too young."

Becky stared at her for a second. Then she started to smile.

…

If Logan were standing, he would've jumped a foot in the air at the gunshot. That was three times he's heard it today. Maybe more—he'd lost track. Looking over his shoulder he saw James struggle to pull the blade through the space in his wrists. After a second he got it, keeping his hands locked behind his back as he looked up at Max and George. They both had their heads turned towards the doorway, but before James could give the knife to Logan, Rick stomped in.

Logan tried not to stare. Rick's black sleeve was dripping blood. He couldn't tell if that was an injury Rick had received, or if it wasn't even his blood to begin with. But suddenly, the blood was making him queasy.

Rick caught them looking at him and scowled. "What are you looking at?" he snapped. "He was getting on my nerves anyways."

The words were spoken to Max and George, who looked tense and awkward standing more guarded against Rick than the boys. Logan and James looked at each other, and then at Carlos and Kendall. If Rick killed David, what did that mean for the others? Max, George, and the other man they never learned the identity of?

As if their thoughts summoned him, the man appeared behind Rick and put a hand on his shoulder. Rick's scowl softened only briefly as he turned to look at him. The other man didn't say another word, but Rick nodded, calmed down some.

Logan found that weird. Were they brothers, or dating, or what? He didn't think anything could calm Rick down like that, especially how psycho the man seemed to be.

The phone started to ring again, and instantly the scowl was back. Rick crossed the room and yanked it off its cradle.

"You should really stop calling every time you hear a gunshot," he snarled. After listening for a second, he ground his teeth. "The kids are fine. Oh, you want proof?"

His eyes traveled to Carlos, and for a second Logan panicked. If he grabbed Carlos or James, it would be really hard to hide the fact that their hands weren't secured anymore. And that would make Rick mad and/or hurt someone. Badly.

Luckily, Rick motioned at Max to haul Logan up and drag him to the counter. Rick thrust the phone to Logan's ear and mouthed, "Talk."

"Hello?"

"_Hi, my name is Henry O'Connell. Which one are you?"_

"Logan."

"_Hi, Logan. Can you tell me who was shot?"_

Logan hesitated, eyeing Rick. "Um… we're fine." He hoped that would give Henry O'Connell the information he needed.

Henry O'Connell didn't say anything for a good ten seconds. Finally he asked, _"Was… anyone shot?"_

"Yes." Logan thought about it. "Maybe. We didn't see."

Rick pulled the phone away from Logan's ear and shoved him down again. "You've got your answer. Kids are fine. Now, do you have what I want?"

His eyebrows raised. "Oh, you do? That was fast. Of course you'll get him. I keep my promises, don't I?" His voice sounded ironic, like there was an inside joke in there somewhere that they didn't understand. "He'll be out in two. I want a civilian to bring me the keys. Don't get your panties tied in a knot—I won't take the civvie, chillax."

After he'd hung up, Rick walked to Kendall and grabbed his chin, turning him this way and that so he could study his face.

"You don't look too damaged," he decided, obviously overlooking Kendall's broken ribs and burned cheekbones. "C'mon, blondie, you're going home. Lucky you."

"What?" Kendall struggled in his grip as he tried to pull him to his feet, gasping from the strain on his ribs. "What—_no. _No. I'm not—no!"

"Stop fighting me, kid," Rick warned. "You can come with me willingly or I can dump your skinny little ass on the cement. I don't care either way. Matter of fact, I'd rather shoot you in the head and get it over with, but the cops outside might not approve."

"I'm not leaving my friends!" Kendall yelled.

"Go, Kendall."

Logan jumped at the sound of James' forceful voice, the crystal clear message shining in his eyes as he locked gazes with Kendall. _"Trust me," _screaming in that one look, as if James had absolute certainty that they would see each other again. Logan didn't know if that were true or not.

Kendall didn't break the glance between them, and he never did stop struggling as Rick led him to the door and all but threw him out. Logan could see the officers swarming to get him off of the cement, fighting them all the way. A second later, Rick was shutting the doors and jingling a ring of keys on his finger.

He turned back to Logan, James, and Carlos, grinning. "And then there were three."

…

"No!" Kendall blindly lashed out at whoever was holding him with his head. "No! I'm not leaving them! Let me _go!"_

His voice was hoarse and it hurt like hell to scream, but nobody seemed to hear him or understand. He _needed _to get back inside. Logan, James, and Carlos were all in there—with _men _with _guns_ who have _shot people. _James being one of them!

Voices assaulted his ears but he didn't want to listen. His eyes were locked on the bank, the building getting farther and farther from him. He could see Rick walking back until he was out of sight. His friends were in there. With _Rick. _The thought caused him to fight harder.

"Kendall, you need to calm down," someone said. Kendall didn't recognize the voice, or the face that appeared in front of him. He shook his head, ready to retaliate.

"Kendall?"

He froze. That was his mother. For a second reality snapped back into place and he could see the EMT standing in front of him, hands poised in front of him as if he needed to defend himself. Kendall's eyes traveled to the side, where his mom stood with Katie and—Becky?

The EMT studied him warily. "You with us?"

Slowly, Kendall nodded. Someone grasped his hands, forcing them apart. A second later, the zip-tie keeping them together snapped off. Kendall hissed as the blood rushed back to the wrists.

As it turns out, that wasn't the least of his problems. Kendall's eyes widened as his ribs protested violently. It felt like his chest was being ripped apart—except from the inside. Or someone was dropping a piano onto his chest. He suddenly couldn't breathe and he probably would've fallen flat on his butt if someone hadn't caught him.

His vision swam and his hearing faded in and out. "… broken ribs… going into shock…" The words came to him in snippets, and he didn't like them one bit.

Someone laid him down on something he couldn't identify, although it became clear when he started to elevate a couple of feet in the air. A stretcher. Which meant he was going to the hospital. Which meant he was leaving his friends.

Kendall was all ready to protest loudly, jump off of the stretcher and run back towards the bank so he could get his friends out with him. But as soon as he started to sit up, the blackness tugged at him and his chest screamed at him and it was all too much. Kendall barely caught a glimpse of his mother shielding Katie and Becky's eyes before he slipped off the precipice into the void of blackness.


	8. Chapter 8

**So some of you may know that James (footballandBTR) died a couple of days ago. I just want to say that I'm proud of you guys—those who were involved in that really bad review war between his friends and anon and Critics United—for burying the hatchet. I didn't want to get involved because I don't blame anyone and I hated to see us as Rushers fight so bad, especially in the wake of something so horrible. But Emily, thanks for posting that A/N (although that's against the rules… you should probably take that down in a couple of days…). I was afraid that this would flare into something so bad that I wouldn't even **_**want **_**to take part in any of it, but I am proud of you and thanks—on both sides—for keeping the peace.**

**Also, if you have a minute, just pay tribute to James please—a moment of silence, a story, whatever. I didn't know him as well as my friends did, but loss of life is sad in any case. And don't see it as a tragedy. James inspired me to stick up for cancer victims and take a stand against bullying, and I know that without something to believe in it would be so much harder trying to get through life. Faith is a powerful thing, and when you have people supporting you, it gives you a reason to keep going. Don't ever give up.**

**Okay, enough mumbo jumbo! Enjoy!**

Rick danced into the room, safety deposit box in hand. James looked up and tried not to glare as the redhead robber knelt in front of him and grabbed his chin.

"Guess what?" he said cheerfully.

James didn't answer. He stared up at Rick expectantly. Rick reached over and grabbed a handful of his hair, twisting it around so hard that James hissed in pain.

"I _said," _Rick growled, "guess _what?"_

"Your sister's married to my dad?" James guessed sarcastically.

To his surprise, Rick laughed and released his hair. "That would be funny, if I had a sister." He stood, obviously in a good mood. "Kid, you're looking at one of the richest men in the world."

He flipped open the lid on the safety deposit box and took out a small, black flash drive, waving it around like it was the most important thing in the world.

James made an unimpressed sound in the back of his throat. "Eureka."

Rick cut his eyes at James, but didn't respond. "You obviously aren't smart enough to know what's on this flash drive, boys. But after I'm finished here, I'm taking a plane straight to the Bahamas to go live in my condo, just drowning in money."

The phone rang, and Rick didn't even glare at it as he crossed the room to pick it up. "Henry, my man," he said smugly. "What's what? You have my bus _and _my money now? Excellent." He started to hang up but paused, listening. "Right, right, the famous brats I still have… Tell you what. I'll leave one here for you and take the other two with me. If I'm not followed, I'll leave the other two on the bus. Sound good?" He laughed. "No? That's too bad. 'Course, I could always just shoot them all right here… That's what I thought. Me and my boys will be coming out. I don't believe I need to warn you about trying anything funny?" He hung up before the other man could protest.

"What do we do?" Logan hissed frantically as Rick turned his back to talk to his team.

James didn't take his eyes off of Rick. "We wait until the perfect time to make a break for it."

"Are you crazy?" Carlos spoke up. "They have guns and they've already shown us that they're not afraid to use them."

"Better than staying here," James shot back. "You don't really think that Rick is stupid enough to let us go? We've seen his face."

"He let Kendall go," Logan pointed out.

James was quiet at that point. "We can't trust he'll let us go," he said finally. "For all we know, he could hold us for ransom or do gross, unspeakable things to us."

Carlos' eyes widened. "I don't want gross, unspeakable things done to me."

"Exactly, so we have to get out of here." James shut up as Rick came over and pointed at him with his gun.

"Let's see," he mused, "you're in better shape than the doc, here, but you're a bit of a smart mouth." He looked at Carlos. "You're definitely coming with. I guess that just leaves you two to flip a coin, doesn't it?"

"You're not taking any of them."

James couldn't help but whip his head back to the back room. His eyes widened and at first he didn't understand what he was looking at. The man standing in the doorway, gun pointed at Rick's head, was blonde and brown-eyed, with freckles and a whole lot of blood pouring from a wound in his shoulder. His eyes were sharp and determined, despite being dulled by pain, and they never left their target—Rick.

The expression on Rick's face was pure shock. James might have enjoyed it if he weren't so terrified.

And then Rick's face smoothed out and he started to chuckle. "David."

David. David? But David was dead.

Or close to it, anyways. It was obvious from the pain pinching David's face that the blood on his clothes was his. "What are you planning, anyways?" he demanded. "You have the codes. You can go make more and more money. What do you need these kids for?"

Any other time, James would've bristled at being called a kid. But he was more intrigued with the sort-of dead bank robber, holding the other one at gunpoint.

Rick scowled. "None of your business." He started to turn around. "C'mon, boys, we're packing up."

An ominous click sounded through the bank and for a moment, everything was frozen.

"You're not going anywhere." David's voice was low, dangerous, and left no room for argument.

"Oh yeah?" Rick turned back around to face him, blue eyes steely. "And what are you going to do to stop me?"

"Whatever I have to do."

James tore his eyes from the two men to gauge the others' reactions. Carlos and Logan looked on, wide-eyed, and even Max, George, and the third robber looked frozen, at a loss of what to do.

Rick took a step towards David, and in one fluid motion pulled out his gun and grabbed James at the same time. David started forward a step but by then James was up and pinned against Rick's chest with the gun pressed to his head.

David swore. "What are you doing?"

"Whatever I have to do," Rick mocked. "If you honestly don't care for the kid, David, then by all means, take another step."

"Rick," the nameless robber protested.

"What am I supposed to do, Aidan?" Rick snapped. "David wants to play hardball, we can play hardball."

"Don't I get a say in this?" James asked nervously.

No one answered him. That was probably for the best. And the worst part was, James couldn't even turn around to see how Logan and Carlos were faring. Probably not well. For a second he started to panic. With Kendall gone, James felt the need to step up and be a leader. That had never happened to him before. But he felt the strongest urge to protect Logan, who was injured, and Carlos, who was so innocent there was no way Rick would take mercy on him.

"Boys," David said without taking his eyes off of Rick, "go."

"No." That came from Carlos. James didn't even need to look to identify his voice. And he'd expected that from Carlos—he would never abandon his friends.

David growled low in his throat. "You have the opportunity—"

"If you even think about leaving I will shoot your friend in the head and then I will shoot you for good measure," Rick threatened.

He glared at David. "If you're going to shoot, shoot!"

David didn't say anything for a second. His eyes shifted to the others. "You're going to let him do this?" he demanded. "He _shot _me. He shot two other people!"

Rick scoffed. _"You _were getting soft." He jerked James to emphasize his point. "I _told _you not to make connections with the hostages! Damn it, David, you do this every time!"

"My nieces love them," David said, glaring. "And you don't—"

"_FREEZE!"_

For a second the world tilted on its axis. People screamed—James couldn't be sure he wasn't one of them—and Rick pulled James tighter to his chest. James didn't know what was going on, his head reeling, as finally he was pulled to a stop, suddenly facing the other direction.

"I think you know what happens if you come any closer." Rick's breath was the first thing James was aware of, tickling his ear and smelling like… James didn't even know, but it didn't smell good. As James' eyesight snapped back into focus he could see guns—lots of guns—pointed at his face.

Then he looked beyond those guns. Each person was in uniform. They were cops.

Wait! Where was Carlos? Logan? James tried to turn his head to look, but Rick tightened his grip and James gagged as his bicep crushed into his windpipe.

"Let the hostages go," the officer in front of him said firmly.

James' heart sunk. _Hostages. _Plural.

Rick was trembling from head to toe, although James couldn't tell if it was from anger or fear. The former seemed most likely.

"How stupid do you think I am?" Rick demanded.

The man in front of him looked like he wanted to answer that. James was glad he didn't. "We have your bus, Rick," he said carefully. "And your money. James and Carlos won't do anything for you."

_James and Carlos. _Did that mean Logan was free? If so, where was he? James wished he could turn his head to look.

"Listen to them, Rick," David pleaded. He was now to James' right, still holding the gun, although he looked torn between pointing it at the cops or pointing it at Rick.

"Shut up," Rick said harshly.

James got the feeling that Rick's anger was coming to a peak. He could barely breathe, barely move, barely see anything. For the first time since this started, James actually started to feel scared for his own life.

Rick was talking. James didn't realize that he couldn't hear or understand what he was saying until the edges of his vision started to darken. James' eyelids fluttered, his lungs bursting as he tried and failed to draw a breath. Panic didn't even hit him as he realized that Rick was literally strangling him.

Something was happening in front of him, and James wanted to pay attention but everything was foggy and weird. The last thing he felt as he slipped off the precipice was something slamming into his chest, and then he blacked out.

**A/N: Ohhh… that was mean. Next chapter should be up tomorrow or the next day to make up for it. :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**So this is wrapping to a close in, like, a chapter or two, which means I get to start my next one! Except my poll is now TIED between Good People, and The Revenge of Atticus Moon (with iKidnapped Big Time Rush in a close third)! The summaries of the stories are on my profile. My poll will close FRIDAY, so get your votes in! If it still ends up being tied by the end of the week, I'll just do eenie-meenie. :) Don't worry- I will write all of them, so even if your favorite isn't the one I write next, it will be written someday!**

**Also- thanks so much for bringing me to 100 reviews on this fic, you guys! It means SO MUCH to me! You're all amazingly epic people and I love you. ^_^ This chapter is DEDICATED TO YOU!**

**Enjoy!**

**...**

Logan had no idea what was happening. All he knew was one moment, he was sitting on his hands, watching David point the gun at Rick and watching Rick point the gun at James. Like a scene from a really good action movie—except this wasn't a movie. This was real. James could die, Carlos could die, _he _could die—and that wasn't even the half of it. He was sure he'd need therapy for years after this was over.

_If _this was ever over.

And then the doors burst open, glass spraying everywhere as cops flooded in. Someone grabbed him and pulled him away from Carlos, away from Rick and Max and George and David and—what was his name? Aidan? Logan didn't even realize that he was kicking and screaming, the pain from the bruises fading as he saw his friends growing smaller and smaller. He looked up, recognized the police officer holding him and dragging him back, and didn't care.

"My friends are in there!" he yelled, struggling to get free. "You can't just take me away! They're in there!"

He suddenly understood how Kendall must have felt when he'd been tossed out.

"Logan!" someone cried. "Logan!"

Logan let himself go numb as he heard his name. Ms. Knight scrambled past the yellow barrier to get to him, pressing both hands to the sides of his face to turn him this way and that. "Are you okay?" she demanded. "God, what did they _do _to you?"

"I'm fine, Ms. Knight," he mumbled, pushing her hands away. As she moved back a paramedic stepped forward. His routine check was something Logan would have usually paid attention to. But as he started to lead him to the ambulance, doors waiting open, all Logan could do was stare at the bank.

The bank his friends were still in.

…

Carlos was _pretty sure _he'd never been more scared in his life.

Not when he got the news that his father had been involved in a hit and run eight years ago, and had to stay in the hospital for a week.

Not when he and the guys were kidnapped by Hawk and almost missed their concert, which would've effectively shut down their entire career.

Not when… actually, he couldn't think of another time he was anywhere near as scared then as he was now. Because not only was there a gun pressed to his head, other guns pointed at his face, and a crazy man holding him close to his chest—but James was in the exact same situation.

Carlos didn't see much when he was grabbed, but from the smell—horrible burnt cigarettes and something else he couldn't identify—he guessed it was Max. As Max tightened his grip around Carlos' throat he couldn't help but cheer silently as one of the police officers grabbed Logan and pulled him away. Now all they needed was to be rescued as well—although that outcome was looking slimmer and slimmer by the second.

"Drop the guns!" Max yelled in his ear. Carlos winced as the smell and the sound overwhelmed his senses. The guy was just a walking ad for lung cancer.

Carlos kept his eyes straight ahead, trying to see past the barricade of police officers to see Logan, or Becky, or _anything _to keep his mind off of the negotiating going on between Rick and David and the cop who seemed to be the most in charge at the front of the wall of officers.

"Listen to them, Rick," David said. Carlos noticed James starting to slump out of the corner of his eye.

Almost involuntarily he pulled forward. "James," he muttered as Max yanked him back again. Another tug forward—and this time, Max growled a really bad word in Carlos' ear as he pulled him back.

But the officers had seen what he was doing. Rick paused in whatever speech was about to give, looking down in surprise as James went completely limp, suddenly dead weight in his hands.

"James!"

Carlos didn't even care anymore. He braced himself, but instead of lunging forward he shoved backwards, knocking Max off of his feet and slamming him, back-first, into the tile floor with him on top. The bank erupted into noise and movement. Hands grabbed at Carlos, but he pulled away, eyes on James as his friend disappeared from his view.

He didn't think. His only thought was to get to James, find out if he was still alive. Carlos' heart pounded like a bass drum against his chest as he crashed to his knees, scrambling along the floor avoiding many feet and people as they rushed each other.

Finally, though, he reached James. His friend's eyes were closed, his head lolled to one side. Carlos dove over him and stayed there, protecting James with his body in case anything bad happened.

The noise stopped. Everything came to a standstill. Carlos lifted his head to see why it seemed like the world had paused, looking straight into the barrel of the gun pointed at his face. He froze, staring, first at the gun and then at Rick behind it. The man's curly red hair was messed up and his chilling blue eyes looked even wilder as he looked from Carlos to the cops and back to Carlos again.

Police officers froze, too, not daring to move. Some still had their guns out, while others were forcing handcuffs on Max, George, that other man, Aidan. Carlos barely saw that, though. He suddenly couldn't breathe as he stared at Rick, trying to gauge what he would do.

"You," Rick seethed, shoving the gun further into Carlos' face.

Carlos said nothing. He turned around fully, slowly, standing up to face Rick.

"Rick," the lead cop, Henry O'Connell, warned. "Don't do anything stupid."

Rick didn't seem to hear him. He had clearly jumped off the deep end. Scowling fiercely at Carlos, he said, "If it weren't for you, none of this would've happened."

"Rick. Rick, leave them alone. You want someone to be mad at? Be mad at me?"

The robber turned his head slightly to glare at Henry O'Connell. "You're taking my brother," he growled. "You're taking my team. You're taking my _life._ It's only fair that I take this kid's life, now, isn't it?"

"No—"

It was too late. Rick ignored everything else, raising the gun so it rested two feet from Carlos' chest. Carlos closed his eyes.

The gunshot made him jump, but mostly because it didn't hurt. And he was still standing. And nothing had hit him. Carlos opened his eyes again just in time to see Rick, blue eyes bugging, fall towards him.

He couldn't help it—he screamed and jumped back, almost landing on James, as Rick crashed to the floor. Behind him, David let his gun clatter to the floor, raising his hands as the cops swarmed him.

"Carlos? Carlos Garcia, are you okay?"

Carlos knew that Henry O'Connell was talking to him, trying to get him to stand and go out to the ambulance and get checked out, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from Rick's body. The blood was spreading along the tile floor, almost reaching his sneakers. Automatically he drew his foot back, and the movement broke the trance as he looked up into the big man's eyes.

He smiled kindly. "We should get you home."

"James," Carlos said, turning around to kneel next to his friend. He watched him for a few seconds, surveying his chest. His head shot up fearfully to look at O'Connell. "He's not breathing."

"Let me see." O'Connell pushed two fingers into James' neck. He waited a beat, and then stood abruptly.

"I need a medic!" he called in his booming voice. Kneeling back down, he looked at Carlos and said, "Carlos, I need you to—"

"No," Carlos said stubbornly. "I'm not leaving James."

"You need to—"

"No!"

The two held glares. Carlos only pulled away to watch the paramedics as they knelt by James' side and began to perform CPR. His eyes stayed locked on James' face with every chest compression, every count, until finally James began to cough. Only then, when the paramedics loaded James up on a stretcher to take him out of the building, did Carlos stand.

"Just walk forward, Carlos," O'Connell murmured in his ear. "Don't stop. I'll be right there with you."

At first Carlos didn't understand what he was talking about. And then he stepped outside into the high noon sunlight, and was immediately blinded by the cameras. A cacophony of noises assaulted his ears—he couldn't even pick out the words. He stopped short, blinking with wide eyes as he tried to clear his vision.

A hand fell on his shoulder and nudged him forward gently. Carlos remembered O'Connell's request—_keep walking, don't stop. _He walked, not even sure where he was going until he could see the ambulance doors, James being lifted and loaded up inside.

"Carlos!" he heard as he started to join his friend. He turned around because he recognized that voice, and spotted Becky waving her arms behind the yellow caution tape line, where an even bigger crowd collected. Her mother stood behind her with one hand on her shoulder, looking at him with tight lips. He wasn't sure why she never spoke.

Carlos waved. The doors closed, cutting her off from his view. And Carlos sat down on the bench and watched as the paramedics tied a bandage on James' injured arm.

The rest of the ride flew by in a blur. He barely remembered getting out of the ambulance, getting checked out by a doctor—he had a minor concussion, and was requested to rest for the next day or so to get over it.

But as he opened the doors to the waiting room, he realized just how long of a day it had been. How long had they been stuck in that place? Almost three hours? It felt like longer.

"Carlos," Ms. Knight sighed, standing as she saw him enter. Katie stood with her, and behind her was Becky with her mother.

Carlos hugged them tightly. "I'm fine," he said.

"He has a minor concussion," the doctor corrected, raising an eyebrow. "He should be fine, but try not to do anything too strenuous." He almost added, _Like get into another hostage situation, _but he figured this family had had enough.

"Becky," Carlos said, raising his eyebrows at her, "you came to see me?"

She jumped up and looked shy. "If that's okay…"

"Of course it is," he said, grinning as he gave her a hug. "Is this your mother?"

"Yeah." Becky turned around and used her hands to sign something to her mother, to which her mother replied—all without using speech.

Carlos was surprised. He should've figured it, though—the way Becky seemed more mature than the usual nine-year-old, how her mother never spoke—her mother was deaf, and Becky was hearing. That made sense.

Becky turned to him sheepishly. "She says she sorry for leaving you back there."

"It's alright," Carlos said, shaking his head. "You guys were let go. It all turned out in the end."

"Hey guys."

Carlos turned around to see James waving sheepishly as the doctor led him out. "You okay?" he asked, surveying the bandage on his arm.

James shrugged it off. "Nothing special. I told you it was just a graze. Doctor said I could go home today."

"Well, at least now you can say you officially got shot," Katie remarked.

"Katie," her mother scolded. She turned to the doctor. "How are Logan and Kendall?"

"Logan Mitchell and Kendall Knight?" The nurse flipped through the papers on her clipboard and said, "I don't have them on here. I'll go see what I can find out though, how about that?"

"That would be great, thank you."

Ms. Knight sighed as she leaned back in her chair. Carlos sat down next to her, and James next to him. Reaching over to put his hand on Ms. Knight's hand, Carlos said, "They'll be fine, Mama Knight, don't worry."

She smiled at him, but it didn't reach her eyes.

Eyes… eyes like Rick's. Carlos gave an involuntary shudder and drew his hand away from hers. He placed them in his lap so he could fiddle with them, staring down hard at the ground and trying not to remember how _dead _Rick looked when he fell in front of him.

He had the feeling he wouldn't be forgetting those eyes anytime soon.


	10. Chapter 10

**GAH! I keep finishing my stories! *hugs stories* Makes me saaaaaad and happy at the same time! **

**Anyways, it's been a looooong ride. Longer than I thought it was going to be, lol. Thanks for everyone who brought me to 100 reviews! I LOVE YOU ALL! Poppy Seed, hope your birthday was amazing. :)**

**Enjoy!**

**...**

"Logan Mitchell? Kendall Knight?"

Carlos stirred in the chair at the names. He didn't even realize he'd fallen asleep, but James nudged his shoulder as they all sat up and faced the doctor anxiously.

"How are they?" Ms. Knight asked.

"Mr. Mitchell," the doctor started, "was the better of the two. He suffered some bruising and lacerations, but nothing serious, as well as burn marks up his arms and neck."

James flinched next to Carlos, and Carlos would've done the same if he didn't feel so hollow.

"Mr. Knight…" The doctor sighed heavily, and that told Carlos everything he needed to know. "He has two broken ribs, massive bruising on his chest area, burns on his arms, neck, back, and chest, and some internal bleeding. We were more concerned about his crushed larynx, which look like it could pose a problem if the swelling continues to increase. We're trying to keep it down now, but it'll be touch and go from here on out."

"His larynx?" It was Katie who spoke, looking worried. "Will that interfere with his singing?"

The doctor hesitated. "Most likely, yes. If it does not heal correctly, he may never be able to talk again, let alone sing." He noticed the panicked looks on everyone's faces and amended, "But that is worst case scenario. We're doing all we can."

"When can we see them?" Ms. Knight requested.

"Mr. Mitchell is ready for visitors," he replied. "Mr. Knight is just out of surgery. He will be a few moments while we prepare him for ICU, and we'll see from there."

"Thank you," Ms. Knight said, giving the man a smile. He returned it, and called a nurse to show them to Logan's room.

"Hey guys," Logan greeted from his bed. He was propped up against some pillows, arms and head bandaged. But he definitely looked better than when they last saw him—kicking and screaming as he was torn away from them.

Carlos sat down next to him. "Are you okay?"

Logan shrugged one shoulder. "Been worse."

Carlos didn't know about that. He bit his lip, wondering what to say, when Logan grabbed the remote.

"Look," he said, turning on the television. "We're on the news."

The sound was turned down, but Carlos could see his picture, along with the others', flashing up on the screen. The bank was shown, as well as Kendall being tossed out in front of everyone and the police officers dragging Logan out—James on a stretcher and Carlos following behind. He didn't like seeing himself up on a tiny screen while the reporters pretended to sympathize. They must've had a field day with that one.

"It's been playing on eight different channels," Logan commented dryly. "That's how I knew you guys were okay. Nobody would tell me anything."

"We're fine," James promised. Carlos turned, realizing that James hadn't really spoken much at all.

Logan nodded. "How's Kendall?"

"He just got out of surgery." James sounded like he was picking his words carefully. "He got the worst of it, the doctors said. We're going to see him next."

Logan threw the covers off of his bed. "I'm coming with you."

"No," Carlos said, eyes widening as he stood up to block him. "Are you crazy? You're not allowed out of bed! You'll rip your IV, and—"

"I'm not leaving you guys again," Logan snapped. Carlos watched as he carefully maneuvered his IV line onto a metal pole with wheels.

"Well, come on," he said. Carlos and James looked at each other, and then followed him out into the hallway.

They found Kendall's room easily enough—Freight Train was standing in front of the door looking particularly nasty.

"Logan," he said in his oddly high voice, "you shouldn't be out of bed."

"Had to see Kendall," Logan grunted. "Why are you in front of his door, anyways?"

"One of the robbers said he wanted to see Kendall," Freight Train said, looking displeased. "Don't worry—the cops are with him. But I'm here for extra measure."

Carlos' stomach dropped to his toes. "One of the…"

James shoved past him and threw open the door. Standing in front of Kendall's bed was David—shoulder bandaged and handcuffed. He turned, the two cops flanking him almost pulling their guns, spotting James and then Carlos and Logan.

"Hey," he said softly. "Sorry to intrude. I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Logan said challengingly.

David lifted his good shoulder in a shrug. "Getting you into this mess," he admitted. "Letting Rick go too far. I wasn't kidding when I said I had nieces who love you. And even if I didn't, it was wrong." He looked down at Kendall, who was still unconscious, and said, "I don't know what else to do to make it right."

Carlos stepped past James and stood in front of David. He looked up at him, biting his lip. "You saved my life," he said finally. "You saved all of our lives."

David looked away, embarrassed.

"He's right," Logan said. He looked at James. "He did give us the pocket knife."

James started to nod. "I guess that more than makes up for it." He surveyed David. "What's going to happen to you now?"

David shrugged. "Probably go to jail now, heal my shoulder and such. Depends on the trial."

Carlos' eyes lit up. "What if we put in a good word for you?"

"Carlos—" James started.

"No, seriously," Carlos said, waving him off. "I've heard my dad talking about this. If we testify in the trial, we can get you a lighter sentence. Maybe even get you off the hook."

David stared at him. "You would do that for me? After everything we did?"

"You didn't do anything," Logan said firmly. "Except save us. Carlos is right. We could get you a lighter sentence."

"I…" David looked overwhelmed. He gazed at Carlos. "Thank you."

Carlos nodded and gave him a small smile. The cops decided that that was a good time to escort David out, so they did. Soon the four were left in silence.

"Nice guy," James said finally. He sounded like he meant it.

Carlos sat down by Kendall and took his hand. The blonde's eyes were open, fixing on Carlos as the Latino smiled at him.

"How long have you been awake?" he asked him.

Kendall struggled to speak, managing only wisps of breath. Carlos shook his head. "Never mind," he said. "Don't talk. The doctors said the bruising needed to go down."

Kendall nodded, but he didn't look happy. James and Logan came around to look at him. His throat was the most notable thing about him, aside from his bandaged arms, bare chest, and wrapped ribs. Under his chin was an explosion of color—bruises blue and purple and yellow in some places.

He caught the flinches from his friends and his expression said, _It's bad, isn't it?_

"It's not that bad," Carlos assured him. "You'll be back to normal in no time."

Kendall smiled at him.

Carlos' eyes lit up. "I know! Be right back, okay Kendall?"

An amused, slightly bemused look came on Kendall's face, but Carlos was gone before he could see it. James shrugged when Kendall shot a questioning glance at him.

Carlos returned an instant later, Becky by his side. "She knows sign language," he explained. "Maybe she can teach you some stuff?"

"If that's okay," Becky said shyly.

Kendall gave her a smile and a nod.

Two hours later the sun was starting to set. Becky had tutored the boys until they had gotten a hang of the alphabet, numbers, and a few basic words.

A knock on the door interrupted their almost-conversation. A nurse popped her head in, smiling softly. "Visiting hours are over," she said. She caught a glimpse of Logan and her smile turned rueful. "There you are, Mr. Mitchell. You know you shouldn't get out of bed."

"And I won't," Logan said quickly. "But there's room in here—can I just be moved into this room, with Kendall?"

He gave her such a look that she melted on the spot. "Oh, I guess so," she said reluctantly. "Just wait here and we'll see."

"I should go find my mom," Becky said as she stood up after the nurse left.

_Thank you, _Kendall signed to her.

_See you tomorrow, _she signed back, smiling. They both waved at each other and she slipped out the door.

"Feel a little better, Kendall?" Carlos asked.

Kendall nodded. He thanked Carlos, too.

"For what?"

Kendall spelled out Becky's name, and Carlos grinned. "For bringing in Becky?" At Kendall's nod he said, "You're welcome. I'm glad you can sort of talk now."

Kendall held up his hand in front of his chest, thumb and pinkie fingers extended while the others were clenched in his palm. He shook the hand back and forth. _Me too._

"Get better soon," James said. He mock punched Logan's shoulder, ignoring the mock hiss of pain Logan exhaled. "You too, Logie."

"See you guys tomorrow," Logan said.

The nurse came back then, pushing a bed into the room for Logan to sleep on. Carlos and James were kicked out, but before they left they each gave the sign for "I love you" to each other, leaving the nurse confused at the silence.

…

_Four months later_

"Two months community service," Kendall said, arching his eyebrows at David. "That's not bad."

"Thanks to you guys," David said, shoving his hands into his pockets. He breathed in a cool breath of fresh air. His brown eyes were soft when he opened them again. "Seriously, though, thank you. For everything."

"We wouldn't be here if it weren't for you," Carlos said happily, swinging an arm around Kendall's shoulders.

Kendall laughed. He enjoyed the sound it made. For two months he didn't talk, only communicated through sign language and a pad and paper. He and the others were getting good at ASL, and promised Becky they would continue even after Kendall got better.

Two months after that and David was released from custody. His trial went smoothly, especially with Kendall, James, Carlos, Logan, and Becky all testifying to his bravery when he tried to help them escape. The jury was won over, however, with Carlos' wrenching story of how David saved his life. David had been let off the hook.

Now they were walking about in the park, reporters ditched as they took the back way out. David turned to the boys and said, "You know, I bet my nieces would love to meet you. It might be awkward, but…" His voice trailed off and he ran a hand through his blonde hair. "I owe it to them," he admitted. "After everything I put you through."

"If your nieces are anything like you," Logan said, "they'll forgive you pretty quick."

David smiled at him. "Trust me, they're nothing like me. They're twin sixteen-year-olds; definitely a handful."

"Hold up," James said, holding up a hand to pause him. "They're twins?"

"And sixteen?" Carlos put in.

"I'm in," James announced.

David looked at Kendall and Kendall rolled his eyes. The blonde man laughed. "Alright, alright," he said. "I guess that's a yes?"

"Definitely," Carlos said.

Logan shrugged. "Couldn't hurt, right?"

They all turned to Kendall. He sighed, and then put on a rueful grin. "What could go wrong?"

**...**

**A/N: I know some people didn't like David, but I did. XP Also, I noticed that Kendall is very easy to whump. It's kind of alarming, actually. Anywho, I hope you liked! Thanks again everyone!**


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